


Red Sun over Paradise

by ukenceto



Series: Love beyond the bones [7]
Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: Art, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, War Crimes, not for cowards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukenceto/pseuds/ukenceto
Summary: The world is saved, but the COG's fallen appart - and so has their well-kept secret.But the Gorasni have a long memory, and despite the wrong time and place, it's all about Marcus having the right people by his side when he needs them the most.
Relationships: Damon Baird/Marcus Fenix
Series: Love beyond the bones [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1025247
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Red Sun over Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tag warnings please!

***

* * *

His head is pounding, an insistent, sharp pain which feels like his skull is being torn apart. It has been going for hours, in fact, ever since he woke up some time before dawn.

He’d passed the offer for breakfast, nausea gripping the back of his throat; instead, somehow ended up in an even worse position: on a boat.

A rowboat, since there was no imulsion left in the tank, no imulsion left anywhere at all actually.

People had insisted they had to speak to Trescu; the Gorasni had been the final push which ensured the end of the locust, the much-needed backup in yesterday’s desperate last assault against the Queen.

If his father’s generator truly had brought on the end of the war, after so many failed attempts throughout the years, their new beginning had to start on even ground. To make some sort of an agreement, a more permanent truce, something to outlast the reluctant aid the old sides of the Pendulum had formed so far.

Or something like that.

He hadn’t quite listened to it all, knowing Anya was likely going to lead the negotiations. Not that he hadn’t tried to pay attention, but his body had been anything but cooperative.

The sun was just rising over the horizon, an eggyolk orange disk floating over the still waters.

Another bout of nausea overcame him, and Marcus shut his eyes, trying to will his turbulent stomach to finally settle.

It didn’t make sense. He’d spent the last year on a ship, and on boats between it and the mainland, occasionally a Raven when they deemed the trip worth the fuel. He didn’t get seasick, on either of those things, not more than a handful of times that was. And he’d always blamed those on whoever was piloting.

But now, as his body struggled between hot flashes and chills running up and down his spine, the moist, salty air over the sea seeming way too thick for his lungs to pull in fully, he began to wonder.

Maybe there was more to it.

Yeah, he had slept some, but perhaps it wasn’t enough. The last few days certainly had been demanding, more so than he’d had to deal with in a long while. Both physically, and mentally.

Glancing to the side, he watched as Baird and Carmine pushed and pulled the paddles, a synchronized motion that threatened to make him sick again if he focused on it for too long.

Aside from their occasional twin grunts of effort, the boat was quiet. Everyone seemed lost in thought, or simply didn’t fill up the chatter void which was left when Baird had to focus his energy on something else than talking.

Cole had stayed on Azura, keeping an eye out on the other Gears currently on the island. A lot was going on, and they didn’t need more problems so soon, especially with the truth of this place’s purpose having spread through their thinned ranks like wildfire.

Dom would’ve had something to say during the twenty or so minute trip to the UIR Destroyer ship.

Marcus didn’t wish to linger on that thought. He definitely still felt numb to the fact, despite having lived through the loss so viscerally. He kept catching himself looking for Dom out of the corner of his eye, he still expected him to be around as he always had, to hear him, to have his back.

His clothes still reeked of char, of the burning residue in Mercy’s explosion, despite the storm in Azura having drenched them all to the bone the previous evening.

Finally, the shadow of the ship engulfed them, the massive, rusty behemoth towering over their small boat. Jace and Sam were the other two passengers aside him and Anya, and they caught the rope which was thrown down from the ship, securing the mast of the boat to the hull.

A metal ladder was set down after that, and Marcus watched everyone climb up, his insides feeling as if somewhere between the shore and the ship they’d turned into lead.

Getting up on unsteady feet, he reached for the ladder, gripping the metal, and hauled himself on the first steps with a grunt of effort.

Stars exploded behind his eyes, and he had to do all he could not to drop down.

The lead had suddenly turned red-hot, a pulsating pain radiating through his core. Too late he realized he should’ve seen the medic yesterday. Even if he hadn’t felt more than sore and bruised and utterly exhausted at the time, he knew internal injuries always were a bitch. Not that they had found a medbay or something with the right tools to check, but honestly he just hadn’t cared enough to do it.

Pulling himself over the last step with the greatest effort of willpower he could muster up, he steadied himself against the hull; the metal was hot, too hot despite the sun being barely up. He cursed under his breath, despising the tropical heat of Azura, when black dots began dancing over his swimming vision.

A sudden, distinct feeling has him overcome by a mixture of realization, fear and compunction. The pain was unbearable.

He barely notices Baird’s concerned face coming closer, his voice sounding muted and distant, before he fell forward, a last, white-hot stab of agony blinding his consciousness.

* * *

***

* * *

“Marcus!” Anya’s worried yell made him turn in a second, fast enough to notice Marcus’ face turn ashen, see the sweat rolling down his forehead.

He wasn’t wearing the bandana, hadn’t since yesterday, since the end; Baird stepped closer quickly, ready to check on him, when he noticed him stumbling forward.

“What’s wrong?” He’d barely uttered the words, and he was already reaching forth, preventing Marcus from falling face down against the metal deck. “Fuck, we need a medic here!”

He shouted by instinct, though he’d been right; Marcus was burning up, he could feel it even through the thin cloth of his tanktop.

The man whom he’d been briefly introduced to yesteterday, Miran Trescu, the current leader of the Gorasni – as much as they could have one that is – and his entourage who were waiting for them all didn’t waste any time.

Trescu barked an order at someone, and hurried footsteps echoed away, no doubt in search for the said medic.

In the meantime, Baird turned Marcus on his back, holding his head elevated. His eyes were closed, body lax and unresponsive, if it wasn’t for the occasional tremor running through him.

“His pulse is sky-high.” Anya was holding her fingers on Marcus’ wrist before taking her canteen and spilling the water from it on his face. He didn’t stir, nothing indicating he even noticed at all. “Breaths are shallow. This is not good.”

“He seemed fine this morning, or well, as fine as he can be after all that… yesterday.” Baird’s own heart was hammering wildly in his chest, a million thoughts turning through his head. He couldn’t lose Marcus, not now, not when the stupid fucking war was finally supposed to be over, this time around.

“Move, let me take a look.” The voice made him turn instantly; he could recognize that drawl anywhere.

“Paduk?” He breathed a small sight of relief, stepping away. Their… friendship, might have been many things throughout the years, and need a lot of working on, but he knew Garron Paduk was an excellent field medic. Had been back in Halvo Bay, and Baird didn’t doubt he’d only gotten better in the years after that.

“We need to move him immediately.” Paduk ignored him completely, his focus entirely on Marcus’ prone form. He’d quickly gone through the same vitals check as Anya, but also pulled Marcus’ shirt up, feeling at his solar plexus and abdomen.

Baird could see several dark bruises spawning over his ribs, and another, bigger one on the side of his lower abdomen and left hip.

“We went through a lot of rough landings yesterday…” Sam muttered, staring at the revealed bruises. “But I didn’t realize he had it that bad.”

Two of the men who’d been by Trescu’s side had already carried over a battered stretcher, and quickly got Marcus on it.

“Shouldn’t we take him back on land?” Anya asked, years of being the head of CIC taking the stead, although worry still ringed clear in her in her tone.

“No time. Not with a rowboat, for sure.” The words ‘no way for a Raven now’ remained unsaid, Paduk curtly nodding to the two men who’d lifted the stretcher. “Take him to the ship’s old med bay. The room’s almost intact.”

“Paduk, you’ve got to tell me what’s happening with him.” Unable to take being ignored anymore, especially not now, Baird stepped in front of him, their chests inches away. But his own voice was laced with worry enough to give Paduk a pause.

“I’m almost certain what’s wrong, and you won’t like it.” Paduk’s tone was almost a growl, something he hadn’t heard of him in a long time. “But there’s no time to explain now. Firstly, I need you to tie a battery to a couple of decades old machine. Can you do that?”

“Probably? If I have to, I’ll find a way.” Glancing over to the others, Baird could see the same question written in their eyes.

“Anything we can help with?” Sam spoke up, nodding at Paduk.

“Unless any of you have medical experience, not for now.” Without waiting for an answer, Paduk went in the direction Marcus had been taken; Baird followed in large strides, hearing Anya coming up after him.

“I think you should stay and speak with the others.” He turned, stopping her in her tracks. It was ridiculous for him to still be thinking of the reason they’d gotten on the ship in the first place, but those were the woes of an analytical mind for you. He hated himself or it sometimes. Glancing at Trescu, who still stood a few steps away from Carmine, Jace and Sam, he knew this time it was for the better.

“Maybe I can help.” She said, crossing her arms. “He’s my friend too, remember?”

“I know.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Baird sighed. “And that’s just gonna make this harder and you know it.”

“Alright, then I’ll radio back, tell Cole. Maybe we have some supplies, anything that could be of use.” She said, seemingly able to gather her footing a bit better now, once she was on top of the situation again.

“I’ll keep you posted, now I really need to go.” Nearly running, he caught up to Paduk who was just entering the lower deck, and felt momentarily blinded in the semi-darkness after the bright sunlight outside.

“Your friend, I think he might be going septic.” Paduk didn’t stop walking as he explained, avoiding protruding shards of metal and bent doors stuck half ajar. “I’ll run him an IV, there’s some antibiotics. But we need an imaging tool, to see if he’s bleeding on the inside. Could also be a rupture. Or worse.”

“Worse? What’s worse than that?” Baird shuddered, remembering the last unlucky person to die after an infection had gone septic. They’d done all they could, but even painkillers couldn’t help in the end. His screams had echoed down the ship, until a Gear from one of the old Onyx squads had cursed up and gone to the room, returning without a pistol.

Baird still recalled the echo of that gunshot, the startled, ashamed faces of everyone in the room, the way they’d all avoided meeting each other’s eyes. No one wanted to end up like that, and no words could be said after. No comforting lies, only the bare, brutal truth of a war-ravaged world.

“Let’s just hope I’m wrong.” Paduk said cryptically, entering the last room in the corridor.

The interior was surprisingly rust-free, gleaming with the shine of steel, a table bolted to the floor; along with several white storage cabinets that bore only a few scratches.

“It was locked, that whole time. We opened it up late last night.” Quickly saying something in Gorasnyan to the two men who’d brought Marcus in, Paduk moved to the cabinets just as they went outside. “Sent them up to bring water, boiling hot.”

Baird couldn’t tear his eyes away from Marcus, who looked incredibly pale, dark circles under his eyes; reddish-blue veins visible under his skin.

“Now, this is the machine. Here’s the battery. Get to it.” Paduk’s tone certainly had to be the one he’d used back in his days as a Major; because despite the whirlwind of emotions in his head, Baird snapped out of his stupor and followed his gaze to one of the cabinets.

He’d barely glanced it before, but now saw the small screen and the wire in one corner, recognizing it. An ultrasound. Paduk’s ‘imaging device.’

Next to it stood a large battery, if he were to guess the kind which powered a Dill’s engine, a single wire coming out of it and up towards the light fixture in one corner.

“I’ll also need the light, so keep that in mind.” Paduk was rummaging about in one of the cabinets, the rusty squeak of a drawer echoing in the room as he opened it, pulling tools and sealed packages from the inside.

“Got it.” He added, almost in an afterthought.

The last thing he saw before kneeling down next to the machine was a gleaming pair of scissors; Baird realized things were as serious as they were going to get. Gulping, he tried to focus despite the sound of cloth being cut away.

He had his tools on him, and despite the projected age of the ultrasound unit, the thing looked virtually untouched. He’d done work on those machines more times than he could count – back in Jacinto, it seemed like he was called to fix one of them at least on a weekly basis.

Surely, this was UIR tech, but he knew the things which mattered were virtually the same.

Releasing the machine from the grips which kept it firmly set to the wall, he found himself thankful for ship engineers. This was likely a precaution put to prevent damage during high waves, but it had kept through a literal ton of ridiculous situations that this very ship had been pushed in its less than formal years. Pulling the bulky thing forward, glad it slid well on its small wheels, Baird got to the back panel, quickly unscrewing the lids which held it in place.

The Dills had powerful batteries; they had to, for they were often used to power up a lot more than the initial stage of the engine. He could only hope this one would hold its charge long enough for what the ultrasound would require.

From there on, it was a world Baird knew well: wires and switches and circuit boards and breakers… He worked deftly, but double checked everything – the last thing he needed was to short-circuit the damn thing because he was running on autopilot.

The light flickered, and without sparks and fanfare, the machine came to life with a series of beeps. Almost reminded him of Jack really. They’d left the bot on Azura, an easy connection beacon to the ship’s radio. It’s how yesterday they’d found that the locust weren’t gone only in the immediate perimeter.

A few more long-wave radio transmissions had been caught, including but not limited to Anvil Gate, and everyone reported the same thing. The grubs’ desperate assault stopped in its tracks, almost as if by magic. All the imulsion leaving nothing but fumes, even the refined one in the tanks.

Yeah, it had seemed like a strong blow, this time around. Even if Baird still wore his armor and his boltok was strapped to his thigh, he tried to believe Adam Fenix have had it right for once. One bloody time. They all surely couldn’t take any more failures.

The nearly oval, dark green screen of the machine shone consistently; then flickered, a bunch of letters he couldn’t read flashing on it.

“Uh…” He was about to ask Paduk, but felt a hand push at his shoulder.

“Move.” Taking the machine closer to the bed, Paduk tapped a key on the keyboard twice, then took the transducer probe.

Looking at Marcus, he saw the IV line running to his arm, and the glistening over his stomach; Paduk had prepared everything, and wasted no time running the probe over his body. 

A brief commotion at the door took his attention, and he noticed the men from before, now carrying a couple of large steaming metal basins.

“I guess you can put these here.” He said when it became evident that Paduk was too focused on what he was doing to give them a reply. They shared a look, but did it regardless; making Baird wonder if he was that much of an idiot, or they did actually understand a bit of Tyran. Maybe they just didn’t want to speak it.

One of them stayed however, and stepped closer to the bed.

Paduk was still looking at the machine’s screen, although Baird couldn’t see it from this angle.

A rapid exchange followed, making him realize that his scant knowledge of the language was definitely insufficient; he barely got more than a word of what was said between them. However, he surely didn’t like the tone.

The other guy, he didn’t know. But Paduk? Even after so long, he could read him well. His shoulders were tense, his voice void of anything but hard professionalism. 

So when the unknown Gorasni began preparing a bunch of tools in a haste, before dropping them in one of the basins, Baird’s stomach turned to stone.

“Paduk, what’s going on?” He asked with a low voice, fear creeping into it.

“How well do you know him?”

His question was met with another question instead, but when Paduk’s intense gaze landed on him, Baird found himself answering without a second thought.

“Well enough. Why?” He glanced at Trescu’s man from the corner of his eye, but decided if Paduk had him here, it meant he could be trusted, or well, had to be.

“Come, see.” Paduk kept the probe on Marcus’ stomach, and Baird tentatively stepped forward.

Gasping, he blinked, almost unable to believe his eyes.

“But… what… how?” Looking away from the screen, he noted Paduk’s glum expression. “That’s not possible… Or is it?”

“I should’ve expected as much of the COG.” Paduk nearly spat the words, but put the machine aside quickly.

The image on it remained however, and Baird found his eyes seeking it out again nearly automatically.

He knew how internal bleeding looked like on those machines; he’d seen it on himself in one unlucky instance. But that wasn’t all he saw either.

“Need me to give you a crash course about it?” Paduk huffed as he tied on a thin pair of scrubs, over his armor and all. On the side, the other Gorasni had already done the same, and came forward with a smaller basin. Paduk dipped his hands in it for a long moment, glancing at Baird again; who was still struggling for words, stepping away from the two of them until he felt the solid presence of a wall behind his back.

Leaning on it, he reminded himself to breathe. Air in, air out. Cole’s voice sounded in his head, the one of many instances his friend had uttered those same two words in the near two decades of war they’d spent side by side.

“If you can do that, I’m listening.” He finally said in a small voice, eyes falling on Marcus’ still form. “You’re really gonna cut him open? Here?”

“I have to.” Paduk was checking the tools placed on a spread of gauze, then picked a dark brown bottle. The man, whom Baird now knew was going to assist him, nodded and pushed a syringe into the IV connector. “He won’t make it otherwise. They won’t.”

“I had no idea.” He muttered, finding himself more and more shell-shocked as the minutes rolled by, watching the scene before him unfold as if it was a recording, a movie; something detached, unbelievable like a dream. Thinking back on the months spent on the ship, of all the time he’d held Marcus in his arms; kissed over his skin, caressed his body. “Didn’t even know it was possible… didn’t…”

Had he really been so blind?

Look ma, where’s all that genius gone now?

“More COG propaganda for you.” Paduk grit out, his words slightly muffled under his mask. “In Gorasnya, this is normal. The doctors said, up to fifty percent of all men carry the gene. The possibility to conceive.”

“You sure that’s not… a thing only happening there?” Even in his own ears, the question sounded ridiculous.

He’d taken genetics classes back in LaCroix, even if the focus wasn’t that per se. He knew, in some isolated tribes, such as the Islanders, certain genetic markup could prevail throughout the generations, eventually shared by most of the population; but Gorasnya was no island.

The Republics had been in constant state of trade and flux for centuries, much like the Coalition’s nations had. Gene engineering seemed like a propaganda to him even back then, when the Pendulum was in motion. Paduk’s annoyed huff told him enough.

“If it’s been… shunned, repressed, hidden by your doctors and leaders over a few generations, it’s eventually a forgotten fact.” Paduk began, and Baird averted his eyes when he saw the scalpel come closer to Marcus’ flesh. “The COG has considered it a weakness for its Gears. Mother nature? She made it with mind for survival.”

“Considering some things the COG was up to, I find this easier to believe than not.” Still, Baird recalled the birthing crèches. The COG’s mad desperation to fill their ranks, the atrocities committed in the name of ‘protecting society’. However, the COG had always been about order, about loyalty, about obedience if you will.

He could imagine why changing the status quo, especially amidst war, had been unthinkable for their leaders, even in such desperate times. Men were out there fighting, women made babies; unless they couldn’t, then they were finally allowed into the ranks again, a right they’d shared during the Pendulum Wars. He could’ve about imagined the uproar if this… knowledge had come to light back in Jacinto for example.

“Look at him. Look at me, at yourself, at any of your fellow soldiers.” Paduk’s calm voice was the only thing keeping him somewhat grounded at the moment, Baird had to admit to himself. “Bodies made to endure a lot. Battle, starvation. Muscles serve protective functions in more ways than one. Nature knows its work.”

“But it didn’t show. You weren’t certain either, not without the ultrasound.” He added, glancing at the machine almost in offence. As if it had been the thing to make that possibility a reality, to upend Baird’s world on its head.

“It was fifty-fifty.” Paduk said almost nonchalantly. “I’ve seen it happen often enough. And as I said, muscle. Kept things tight and neat.”

“Thinking about it… he did grow a little bigger in the past year. Overall.” Baird found the thought almost hysterical in this moment. He had noticed, but back at the time it had been with a note of definite appreciation. “But we all did. We were on a ship, for once not daily fighting out there for our lives. Growing our food and such.”

“It happened a couple of times with my people, in the past several years.” Sounding a bit more timid, Paduk continued. “Some of them made it out, after all. They’re still on the ship too.”

“I’m… I’m glad those near the Imulsion Rig weren’t all of them.” He said, throat tight. The lambent humans were something he’d have nightmares about for years to come, he was certain. He already had, last night too.

When Paduk remained quiet, Baird finally mustered the courage to look at the operating table again.

He could smell the copper stench of blood, as well as something pungent and vile, and he almost gaged as he noted the murky, yellowish liquid Paduk’s assistant was pumping out into a large glass container.

The suction end of the probe disappeared in Marcus’ open abdomen, and he watched in horror as the thing kept filling, finally streaks of blood flowing in.

“Uldat...”

That word he knew. But he remained quiet, reminding himself not to get in the way. The two men seemed busy enough as it was, the assistant rapidly switching between tools, giving them to Paduk, changing bloodied gauze.

“Baird, come.” Paduk ordered, and he trod forward. “At his head, keep a hand on his pulse. Tell me if it drops, or goes any higher.”

They didn’t have a heart rate monitor. He realized the assistant had also been keeping a manual check on Marcus’ pulse, and the thought horrified him. Anesthetic alone was known to sometimes cause patients’ hearts to stop, but he remembered this wasn’t a damn hospital.

There was no other choice.

Giving a wide berth between himself and the table, Baird reached the end and outstretched a hand to Marcus’ neck, sensing the staccato of his pulse under his fingers.

“It’s fast.” He managed to croak out, his lips parched.

“He’s holding on for now.” Paduk muttered, continuing to work uninterrupted.

Baird couldn’t keep from watching his hands, the glisten of Marcus’ innards, the smooth, final layer of the membrane Paduk was cutting. The placenta.

“There’s been an abruption, it is why all this happened.” Paduk said suddenly. “You saw the bleeding on the picture too, right?”

“Yeah…” Baird worried because blood loss on its own was serious enough, even without possible infections and post-surgical issues.

“Well, the baby doesn’t get enough oxygen. Things get bad for both of them. He must’ve been like this for hours, maybe more.” This time, Paduk’s tone sounded almost accusing. “Even if you didn’t know why, this is excruciatingly painful.”

“He said he was sore yesterday. But we all were.” Baird knew it was a weak excuse. “He must’ve hid how bad it was better than I’d have thought.”

“Knowing how the COG deals with this, I wouldn’t blame him for being scared.” Paduk’s tone remained sharp enough to cut.

“I don’t think – I’m not sure if he even knew.” Baird tried to remember if there had been anything, in this new light, that would give him the hint, something Marcus has said or mentioned at all. But he hit null, maybe just because his brain was a bit too stressed out to recall the mundane details of the past year, but maybe there truly just hadn’t been anything to stand out. “And I don’t know what the COG would’ve done. There is no COG now, remember?”

“Please, don’t be ridiculous.” Paduk was moving his hands up and yes, Baird couldn’t disagree; that was a baby. “And maybe you wouldn’t want to know.”

Watching as Paduk carefully handed the small body to his assistant, Baird felt terror grip at his throat again. He didn’t know much, but weren’t babies meant to cry when they were born?

The assistant was doing something, CPR if he’d ever seen it done with two fingers only. He felt absolutely helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do but watch and hope.

Paduk’s curse took his attention momentarily, and he watched him working on Marcus quickly, discarding more blood soaked compression pads. The tools were a mess; the pulse underneath his fingers quickened.

“Paduk, his heart’s going faster.”

“I’m working on it, just keep steady.”

He wasn’t quite so sure if Paduk meant himself, Baird or Marcus. In either case, when he heard a weak cry echo in the room, he could finally breathe again.

The assistant cut and tied up the umbilical cord, before hastily wrapping up the baby in a small sheet, something that looked made of the same material as the scrubs they wore.

“His breathing is still weak.” He spoke Tyran with a heavy accent, but Baird was thankful to be included in the discussion still.

“I’ll need to connect him to an IV too, when I’m done here.” Paduk said, busy with suturing something inside Marcus. “They’re both on the edge. We have antibiotics now, even if a limited supply. But I can’t guarantee it’ll be enough to help.”

A quick glance in his direction, and Baird caught the nearly apologetic look in Paduk’s eyes. None of this was his fault, in fact, if it wasn’t for him, Baird knew no one would’ve had the expertise needed to help Marcus. But something within him shattered at the honest admission, at the fact that this was far from being out of the deep for either of them.

Marcus’ heart was still beating, but Paduk was yet to fully close his body; the large cross-cut over his abdomen looked scarier than many wounds Baird had come to see in battle.

And then came the matter about the baby… A boy, the assistant had said as much. He held him in his arms still, and Baird looked at the little head peaking from underneath the cloth. Face scrunched up in quiet cries, and a dash of pale blond hairs on his tiny head.

A whole different question formed itself in his overloaded mind, and Baird found himself frozen in thought.

He was the only person Marcus has been with, in a long time, from what he knew. He couldn’t be 100% sure, of course, but… The conclusions of that fact were obvious.

If it wasn’t for the life of the man he loved that was on the line now, he would’ve thought more about it. But the pulse underneath his fingers jumped, and his reaction was quick to follow.

In the years that came by, the rest of that day was mostly a blur to him. A haze of emotion, worry, fear, desperation, anxiety, a touch of hope. And a new beginning.

* * *

***

* * *

“He’s probably mine, you know.” He said without thinking, holding the little bundle in his arms. At least he was eating now, drinking from the bottle more eagerly than in the past few days. Baird was unable to look away, but wondered what Paduk would say about that still.

They had something between them, a long time ago. He was never quite sure it ever really went away either, despite all the years of separation. He’d certainly felt the spark within himself ignite on the few occasions that they’d met again in the time between Halvo and now.

“Hm, could’ve guessed as much.” Paduk was busy with Marcus’ bandages, carefully cleaning out the wound and changing the drainage. “Even if not by blood, I saw the worry you had for this man. His child is yours now, regardless of the semantics.”

“Well, I guess.” Glancing at the bed, he frowned lightly. Marcus hadn’t woken up once since the surgery days ago. Paduk did say he was keeping him on heavy painkillers, but Baird still worried.

They weren’t equipped to handle patients in a coma, definitely not in the long run. And he wanted Marcus to be okay. Wanted him to wake up and… everything that would follow. He realized it would be a lot to deal with, for sure.

Paduk was so certain that Marcus must’ve known; but Baird wasn’t. He’d seen Marcus’ care about other people, seen the way he minded them in battle, even if they could fend for themselves. He didn’t think he’d see him throw himself in fights as recklessly as he did if he knew there was another life growing within him.

Although, Paduk’s earlier words still rang through his head. What would the COG do, if they knew?

Had Marcus been through something like this before? Maybe he had a reason for fighting so desperately after all. Maybe it had been safer to try end some things early on, than risk what had in fact happened now. Or something worse. Baird’s mind certainly didn’t have problems filling in the gaps, after seeing more than enough war horrors for a hundred lifetimes and then some.

“Maybe you should leave him to wake up for a bit. Just to see if he can.” He asked regardless, unable to shake the worry that Marcus’ infection and subsequent fever had done some irreversible damage. “Dose him up on the good stuff again right after.”

“You have no idea how much having your abdominal muscles cut hurts.” It wasn’t a question, or a statement; Paduk made it sound like an absolute fact.

Another question formed itself in Baird’s mind. That’s what happened when he didn’t keep himself busy. His mind tended to wander, make use of the nervous energy coursing through his veins.

“Okay, I just have to be patient then.” Baird sighed. But he knew it wasn’t just himself who was running out of that.

It was an early morning, but Paduk kept a rigorous schedule when it came to monitoring Marcus’ condition; a single-minded determination Baird had seen on him only on long stake-outs, and even then he’d known that had just scratched the surface. Paduk was a sniper, patience and persistence were virtues high on the list for that particular skillset.

And well, they were taking turns with taking care of the baby. Feeding and cleaning and he was pretty sure the boy hadn’t been out of their hands for more than five seconds at a time.

Cole, Anya, Sam, Jace, Carmine, Dizzy had all come to the ship to see and hear for themselves. They’d done it out of concern for Marcus, but some things were a bit hard to hide. Especially between friends, and well, brothers in arms.

Paduk had insisted they all keep away from the room, reminding everyone that both Marcus and the baby were fighting infection and a serious surgery recovery required conditions as sterile as possible; however, that hadn’t stopped them from damn near ambushing Baird on the rare instances he did get out of that room.

Showering, eating on foot and sleeping in a hammock nearby were those instances. Paduk took his place in the chair next to Marcus’ bed at that time, keeping an eye on him and the baby.

It had been an interesting ordeal to explain the truth to anyone who hadn’t been present for the surgery however. A lot of unbelieving glances were had, though the one person’s reaction who did surprise him however, was Anya’s.

_“I was CIC, remember? Everything came through us.” She’d sounded morose, almost regretful. “This would happen, from time to time. There was even a code for it. Made me sick when I first found out what they meant, what they did to the guys who were brought in the hospital like that.”_

_“And what was that?” Cole had sounded angry, a rare display for him between Delta._

_“Well, I didn’t know all. But the kids would be taken away, instantly. Further in the war, lives weren’t as expendable as before, so the Gears mostly got reprimanded and removed from their squads. And the doctors made sure they never had the same… problem, retaining them from their duties on the battlefield again.”_

_“I’m guessing, if anyone spoke for that, they had it worse, huh?” Jace had added. “Would’ve heard about it somehow otherwise.”_

_“Some of us did, boy.” Dizzy had been twisting the edge of his hat between his fingers, looking away from them. Baird remembered he had a past with the Stranded, too._

_That couldn’t have been easy._

_“No one dared speak about it. The COG had its ways to make you disappear, even if you didn’t die.” Anya’s face had darkened at that, a shadow of some emotion Baird couldn’t quite place crossing her features. “They never got to see their children again either. I’ve had people come find me, begging for me to tell them something, anything. But I never knew, even I was in the dark as to the when and where they were moved.”_

_“Well, good that Prescott and all those assholes are eating dirt now.” He’d said, finding the venom for his words again. “I’m not standing for any of this shit from now on.”_

_“Oh yeah baby, things are ‘bout to change, big time.” Cole had crossed his arms, looking over them all. “I know we’se we, but I also know there’s not all that many more people left. So we gotta make a difference. Anya, we gotta change this.”_

_“We will Cole, I promise you.” Anya had looked determined, a glimpse of steel in her gaze. It was no surprise that her negotiations with Trescu had been going well, Baird mused. He might’ve thought her just a cowering voice via a radio long time ago, but that had changed since the fall of Jacinto._

_She’d not only rubbed shoulders with the big brass enough to pick the shine up, but had figured out how to use it too. Maybe, their ragtag team of survivors could form up a civilized society again after all, he thought. With the way the world kept surprising him, he figured this was the time to dream big and all._

_“Maybe it won’t happen overnight.” Sam had added. “But it will, there are ways. We’ll work on it.”_

_She’d put a hand on Baird’s shoulder at that, a rare display of affection between them; with all the shit they talked at each other usually, one could forget they did actually give a damn about one other when push came to shove._

_“No one’s gonna treat you or Marcus like that.” She had added for emphasis._

_“Yeah, they’ll get a look at the business end of my shotgun if they try.” He said with a grimace. They didn’t fight for this wreck of a world for someone else to call the shots again. Seventeen years were a long time since the COG was more of a government than just an army; one could say, change had already began back there, back after E-day and everything that had come with it._

“You can be patient. Let him sleep away the most of the pain he can.” Paduk’s voice was surprisingly tender, and Baird couldn’t find the words to say to him in turn. He could only watch as he carefully finished up the new bandage, and tucked the thin blanket around Marcus’ shoulders.

The inside of the ship was warmer than not, especially in the sun; but a testament to how much Marcus’ body had been through was evident through his temperature.

Now that he no longer ran a fever, he was a bit cool to the touch, and Baird knew full recovery was still far ahead from him. Even with two blood transfusions, Paduk had said it – he’d come too close.

Had they been late with an hour, or even less, neither Marcus, nor their son would’ve made it.

“You should name him.” Sometimes, it seemed like Paduk could basically read his mind.

“It’s not on me to do that, you know it. When he wakes up.”

“In Gorasnya, the saying went that a child should have its name within the first three days of being born. Gives it better chances in life.” Paduk was sitting on the side of the bed, his back turned to Baird.

“I— I can’t. It should be Marcus who picks it.” Even if I’m the other dad, Baird didn’t add. “I can’t even think of something on the top of my heard right now. You know names are for life, right?”

“Yeah…” Paduk’s voice sounded distant, and after a long moment, he stood up, not sparing another look at Baird.

“Wait, please.” He said before he could think of why, of what was going to follow those words.

Paduk did stop, but didn’t turn; his head inclining just lightly towards him. He was waiting.

Baird really didn’t feel like cocking this up.

“Thank you, for everything.” He began, trying to put his emotions into words, even so sorely out of practice. “For staying. I know you never wanted to see me again. But you’ve done everything for them, and it means more to me than I can ever begin to tell you.”

“Seems like fate has a knack for always putting you in my path, Damon Baird.” Paduk chuckled, but his tone remained serious. “Despite my plans. Maybe there’s a reason for it.”

This time, he didn’t try to stop him from walking away.

Realizing the baby had fallen asleep, Baird put away the now empty bottle aside, still lost in thought. A lot could happen in a few days’ time. Feels like a whole year on its own, almost.

He did wonder, like he had many times, what would’ve happened if he had left with Paduk. If he’d taken him up on his offer back in Halvo, those peculiar weeks after the fight against Karn and all which had transpired since.

He’d been too young, too naïve. He believed the war could, would be won sooner than not, believed in his place amidst the COG, that it was where he would’ve been of most use.

Years as a private and a subsequent, limited climb up the ranks again had taught him that had been a fool’s hope. If anything, he’d felt useless most of the times. Some years passed, and he had considered Paduk’s offer again, wondered if it still stood. Even if he had Sofia, Baird wasn’t a stranger to the notion of more than one romantic partner.

And they were fighting the locust too; they hadn’t been Stranded. But he’d feared leaving the COG, leaving all he’d ever known behind, even as twisted and messed up as those things had been. His whole life before that, he hadn’t dared step away from the shadow of his parents, even at the dream and promise of pursuing his passion.

He’d kept the option open of course, delaying the inevitable drafting in the army for as long as possible; hoping the Pendulum Wars would finally end before he had to point his gun in another person’s face.

And in the same way, he hadn’t made up his mind about following Paduk where many others were ready to. Cole had been part of it, of course – he couldn’t leave his friend behind. But sometimes, he thought that maybe it wouldn’t have taken too much to convince him of that path either.

No point in speculating about it now, though. What was done, was done, and what wasn’t – well, Baird would never know how that went, now would he?

He’d thought, it was too late to make amends as they traveled towards Azura, Paduk’s words weighting heavy in his heart. But the man always did have a peculiar character. Maybe, sometimes, Baird had to remember being stubborn did pay out in the end.

He didn’t want to never see Paduk again.

So he was going to make sure they got off on the right foot this time around. And with him staying to help Marcus and the baby for as long as he was needed, Baird was beginning to think that maybe Paduk hadn’t quite meant those words either.

* * *

***

* * *

He cradled the baby close to his chest, feeling the small bundle move a little; the boy was waking from time to time, but didn’t cry out – when he was hungry, Paduk quickly had a bottle ready, and checked often enough to keep him clean too.

It wasn’t the first child he’d helped bring out to this world, far from it – but he usually didn’t stay for the part which came after. It hadn’t been on him to do this, even if for some reason one of the parents was unable to care for the newborn.

Letting himself get close, start to care, felt dangerous. But he’d had enough of wretched wars and keeping away from people he loved because he could lose them. Life took everyone, one day or another. What sense was there to avoid it, when he’d get hurt regardless?

But this was… different. He wouldn’t think the wound was so raw after so many years, but again, life had the tendency to surprise him in such ways. There was always something.

It was the middle of the night, the crescent moons peeking out from the small round window in the cabin; the breeze carried in fresh air, finally free of the oppressive heat of the day.

A shuffle caught his attention; he turned the bedside lamp on, the soft glow of it illuminating the room. They were conserving energy, but he had a good reason to turn it on now.

Marcus’ eyes opened, and he blinked several times, apparently trying to focus, to adjust his eyes to the light.

“You’re safe, on the Gorasni ship.” He said in a calm voice, sitting a bit straighter into the chair, but still mindful not to disturb the sleeping child in his arms. “You needed medical attention, so best not try to get up from the bed.”

“Mmh…” Marcus clutched at this side, head falling back against the pillow; he’d barely raised it before that, but he must’ve tensed his whole body despite it. Paduk couldn’t blame him – who didn’t wake up with a start nowadays?

“Your abdomen probably feels on fire, but believe me that’s fine. Or to be expected, at least. I know.” Paduk carefully put a hand over his arm, hoping to bring him some focus. Where was Baird when he needed him?

Further down the hall, sleeping. He didn’t feel like yelling, and it wouldn’t do to just leave the man and go fetch him either.

Anyways, maybe it was for the better. Someone had to explain things, after all. Might as well be him.

“Wha-what happened?” Marcus’ voice was gravely, a barely-there rumble, but his pale blue eyes seemed clear; Paduk was surprised at the intensity of his gaze. That didn’t occur often for him.

“Not sure if there’s an easy way to put this but… Let’s start with saying that you needed an emergency surgery.”

Marcus frowned at his words, and looked down; at himself, then at Paduk’s arms. However, the dawning revelation he expected wasn’t quite there, if anything the look was more akin to confused disbelief.

“This is a dream, isn’t it.” He sounded as if he was mostly asking himself, gaze focused on the light green blanket sheet covering him, hands grasping a bunch of the soft fabric.

“They don’t usually hurt this much, I think.” Paduk could only add.

He watched as Marcus pulled the blanket aside with an abrupt motion, his fingers hesitating right above the crisp white bandages wrapped around his midriff. Despite grazing over them in the next moment, Paduk was sure he didn’t seem convinced.

Marcus glanced at his arms again, frowning slightly, looking lost and younger than the years Paduk would’ve given him otherwise.

“Do you want to hold him?” He asked softly, shifting a bit closer again.

Marcus nodded lightly, but covered his face with his hands in the next moment. Paduk could hear the ragged breaths escaping his lips, and saw his shoulders starting to shake; he was sobbing, a whole-body, gut wrenching kind of sobs that made him feel his own stomach twisting by proxy.

Baird hadn’t said, what he’d thought Marcus’ opinion about having a child would be. Paduk knew it could vary wildly from person to person. But that look, that look hadn’t been one of despair, that much was clear.

Uncertain what to do as to console this man, whom he hadn’t known aside of Baird’s words and saving his life, Paduk also knew it wasn’t right to remain impassive either.

Holding the boy steady in the cradle of his arm, he tried again, placing his free hand on Marcus’ shoulder.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know.” Oh, he surely did. “But you’re okay, you’re both going to be alright. Made it through the worst part, despite the odds.”

He and Trescu had shared a strained, if mostly civil sort of conversation in the past days, but the man had still tried to protest in using up so many supplies for someone who had been, well, from the COG. Paduk had nearly lost it then, a step away from starting a riot on the ship – since he knew the people who had his back would definitely fight Trescu’s men for resources.

However, diplomacy had won, after all. Everyone liked to pretend the discussion had never even been had, and the COG’s survivors had formed a certainly, mutually beneficent truce with Trescu and his followers.

Paduk found it ironic that even now he wouldn’t trust his fellow countrymen; but it wasn’t about that. He didn’t care about any deals they made with the former COG, he didn’t plan to stay long enough to see them come to fruition anyways.

But as far as he was concerned, Marcus and his son would get the treatment they needed to make it through. He’d made sure of it.

Slowly, Marcus’ breathing began to even out. He dropped his hands back on the bed, seeming more exhausted than he had in days; Paduk knew his body’s response to the motion had likely been less than kind.

But Baird had been right about that – the man hid his pain well. Paduk found a certain sense of respect for him forming up, maybe because one didn’t get to hide pain so good unless they were well accustomed to it. Another thing they’d have in common, it seemed.

“I didn’t know.” The words were barely a whisper, Marcus’ gaze focused ahead, maybe looking towards the night sky. He seemed shaken still, but more aware of his surroundings too. “Right until the end.”

“Really?” Usually he’d be the first to say ‘don’t ask stupid questions’, but Paduk definitely found himself surprised.

“I— I’d read about the possibility, way too long ago.” Marcus turned his head to look at him. “Never thought it’d be me though. Never happened so far, either.”

“You could say it’s more common in one’s youth, but that’s not always a precedent.” Paduk shrugged his shoulders slightly. “And I’m surprised you have. Most of your friends didn’t have a clue about it.”

“I read it in a book I wasn’t meant to have access to.” Marcus didn’t elaborate further, though it was clear it had been something far from his mind for too long.

“And you really felt nothing? For nine months?” Paduk asked again.

“Think I just didn’t realize.” Marcus huffed under his breath. “Goddammit.”

“Yeah, that’s that.” Paduk caught his gaze, smirking knowingly. “Carefully now, and keep his head supported.”

He carefully put the baby in Marcus’ arms, who followed his lead, looking at the little boy with what Paduk could only describe as reverence. Yeah, he didn’t need to wonder now, if Marcus wanted that child. He certainly loved him already.

A weight stuck at the back of his throat, and he remained silent; watching as Marcus gently caressed the boy’s cheek with a feather-light touch. His eyes began to sting, and he finally looked away, blinking a few times angrily. He wouldn’t do this, not here, not now. He didn’t have the right to, didn’t want to slip away the armor he’d built up so carefully over the years.

“Are you alright?”

The tone surprised him; he didn’t expect to hear care in Marcus’ tone, not for him, a stranger and someone he’d undoubtedly recognize as Gorasni.

Shutting his eyes for a long moment, Paduk tried to get himself back under control.

“I will be.” He finally said, looking at the man. Maybe the dim light wouldn’t betray the redness in his eyes.

Maybe. Fool’s dream.

“I… I should name him, right?” Marcus said after a while, keeping the baby close in the cradle of his arms. “But I’ve not thought about it. I have to think about it, isn’t it so?”

He said the last part almost as if asking the boy, which made a small smile curl in the corners of Paduk’s lips.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with the right name. Give yourself the time to find it.” He was sure of it, he’d been there after all. “The name will come, don’t worry.”

The boy stirred a bit; a pair of bright blue eyes looking up at Marcus, something Paduk now knew the two shared.

“Look at you…” Marcus spoke softly, smiling at the baby. He seemed to remember something, because he turned towards Paduk again. “Does Baird… Is he here?”

“Yeah, he’s sleeping. Been here the whole time, and is by your side when I’m resting. He knows, alright.” He’d wondered, if Baird would ever find love again. Or if one day, their paths will cross again, and for once he’d actually stay. Maybe there had been a reason, why that never happened, Paduk mused.

“He’s the… other father.” Marcus closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again with a sigh. “Go explain that one to people.”

“Well, he suspected as much. Would be happy to know for sure though.” Paduk said with a shrug, leaning back in his chair. “Would you like me to go get him now?”

“How long since he’s gone to sleep?” Marcus asked after a moment.

“Hmm, two or three hours maybe?” Paduk knew it hadn’t been longer, because he hadn’t needed to make another bottle yet.

“Then let him rest. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that conversation anyways.” Marcus said in a low tone.

“He loves you.” It wasn’t a question, but Paduk felt the need to have the words out still.

“From what he’s told me.” Marcus’ eyes were on him again. “And don’t get me wrong, the feeling’s mutual. But… Think I need some time.”

“That’s fine. He does need the sleep anyways.” He smirked again. “Babies take a lot of work. The two of us have been rotating shifts non-stop.”

“Thank you for that.” Marcus seemed almost embarrassed for a moment. “I don’t even know you, but you’re doing a lot for me… for us, already.”

“Name’s Garron Paduk. I doubt it rings a bell, but me and Baird go way back.” He’d wondered if he should add that bit, but decided some rare occasions, namely this one, did warrant the explanation. “He trusts me, even if everyone would tell him he’s crazy to. So don’t worry.”

Marcus eyed him for a long while, then surprised Paduk again by smiling slightly.

“I do know you. Baird told me about Halvo.” His smile widened further at Paduk’s frown. “You might not remember it, but at the time your squad saved mine.”

“I’ve seen a lot of people, that’s a given. But I feel I’d remember you if we’d ever met.” Paduk did wonder for a moment, but again, there had been nothing in Marcus that had initially made him feel any sense of familiarity.

“That’s cause you didn’t.” Marcus continued after taking a deep breath. “We only spoke on the radio. The lot of you almost dropped a missile on our heads.”

“Oh. That.” Paduk rolled his eyes a bit. “Well, we had a grub to kill and all.”

“Can’t forget that one.” Marcus huffed. “Mean son of a gun, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah… Look at it this way, you could’ve ended up like me.” Paduk vaguely gestured at his face. He’d felt explaining that was getting old, but Marcus bringing up Halvo did bring a few pangs of nostalgia along.

“A lightmass strike did it?” Marcus’ tone was serious now, his eyes studying Paduk’s face intently.

“That’s right.” The rest of the story, well, Paduk didn’t usually tell that part. “Let’s just say, my hate against the COG runs deep. That’s the least of the reasons about it.”

“Huh…” Marcus did seem a tad surprised, then looked away. “Yet you still helped me.”

“Baird seemed worried about you.” Paduk knew it wasn’t very good, as far as excuses went. “Maybe I just saw a bit of myself in you then. Couldn’t walk away.”

“Despite how you felt about the COG?” Marcus continued.

“Despite that.” Paduk expected him to drop the matter a lot earlier – most people usually did, too afraid to trod on some unseen line that marked a ‘peace’ which could never truly be so for either side – they had just learned to work against their common enemy, but the memory of the Pendulum Wars couldn’t fade so easily.

“I wish it didn’t have to be like this.” Meeting his eyes again, Marcus looked oddly sincere, something Paduk hadn’t allowed himself to see in the face of his old enemy for a long while. “Took us a whole ‘nother war to realize it. Do you think it’ll last?”

“What? Peace?” Paduk barked out a laugh that was far too removed from anything humorous. “Please, don’t be ridiculous. People always find reasons to kill each other.”

“I guess you’re right.” Marcus seemed lost in thought. “The war was just always kind of there though. To realize we took it for something normal…”

“It was never normal for me.” Paduk grit his teeth. “Maybe for the COG it was, but my people never asked to be dragged in it. We took it in stride, because we’d never bent to an enemy’s will. Didn’t mean we invited it though.”

“I fought in the Pendulum Wars. Still remember when I realized it was all a big fucking mess, nothing but a lie fed to us by those in power.” The anger in Marcus’ expression was mixed with pain, that Paduk wasn’t sure was entirely physical. “The war was real. The reason? Fuel, power, money…”

“Keeping the war machine going.” Paduk said absentmindedly. “They sow’d pain and reaped death. That could only keep going.”

“Well it did stop, eventually.” Marcus added.

“We were closer to striking back than you think.” Paduk lifted a brow, gauging his reaction. “I was seething for revenge. Could’ve taken the world with me, if it meant hitting those who’d wronged me where it hurt.”

“That sounds personal.”

“It was.”

Another long silence stretched between them, and Paduk began wondering why he found it so easy to keep talking. Maybe because they barely knew anything about each other. In either way, he found himself thinking of things he hadn’t meant to revisit this night, and suddenly willing to say even more than he already had.

Marcus was younger than him; this wasn’t about being equals, about sharing stories from a common past. He’d unbalanced him, without even trying – it was a vulnerability Paduk knew the source of quite well.

“Maybe would’ve been for the better.” Marcus spoke. “See what that victory brought us.”

“I get what you mean.” Many times Paduk had wondered if the locust weren’t some angry god’s revenge on mankind for their relentless bloodthirst. Demons made in their own worst image. “But the way I see it, you still got a lot in the end.”

“You think?” For the first time tonight, a hint of anger slipped in Marcus’ voice.

“Maybe I don’t know all of it.” Paduk wasn’t in the mood for a fight. “But you have the man you love. And your child. More than many people do, especially now.”

“I’ve lost everyone I ever loved in my life.” Marcus’s voice fell low again, a hoarse whisper betraying he’d not planned for those words to slip through his lips. “Baird’s all I have left. And this child. Do you know the way I fear losing them now?”

“I know exactly how that feels.” Paduk leaned over the bed, making sure to meet Marcus’ eyes. “More than it; because I have lost those things, without ever getting to have them for long.”

A stunned silence followed, but that same anger, that rage twisted and turned in his mind. He’d kept it down but sometimes it rose enough to sear a burning path through him still.

“You want to know what the COG did to me?” Paduk hissed out. “Want to see it, the way its marred my body over and over again?”

Marcus’ jaw tensed, but he didn’t look away from him. Didn’t say a word, didn’t look scared or mirrored his anger. He only looked, and that look made Paduk willing to tell him all.

Not because he was indifferent; because he still managed to look like he cared.

That damn look, the same Baird had given him for different reasons, and he was still not immune to it by now.

Grabbing the back of his shirt, he took it off with a single, angry motion, bunching up the fabric in his hands before tossing it away blindly. Leaning back in the chair, he sneered, gesturing with his arms.

“Even the doc lost count of the stitches, by the end of it. Said, if it was anyone else but me, they surely would’ve ended up dead.” Paduk watched as Marcus took a good look at him, a look of discomfort briefly crossing his features. “Said, I had stayed alive for revenge. He seemed scared, too.”

Without waiting for a reply, though he didn’t expect one either, Paduk continued.

“Wouldn’t have thought of it, this field doctor who’d lived through sixty years of patching people up in trenches. Being scared by me, barely fucking sixteen, beat up badly enough to be unable to speak.”

Twisting his face away, he took a breath, trying to overcome the sudden sense of nausea that washed over him. Even after so long. He wanted to curse himself, wanted to curse the world. As if it already wasn’t.

“I don’t think I wanted to be alive back then.” His voice lowered. “I had struggled to survive; I wanted them all dead. But I didn’t want to live with what they did to me, didn’t want to go through the pain of recovery. To carry all that for the rest of my life.”

He laughed bitterly, remembering some of his thoughts in the years that had followed.

“I was a proud man, don’t forget that. They never broke my spirit.” He shook his head. “If the war was won by us, I would’ve lived on. Revenge wasn’t the only endgame. But it felt like it would never be enough.”

Hand absentmindedly reaching for his abdomen, he caught himself too late – he’d already ran a finger over one of the long scars, the deep, uneven groove of it by now a part of him he knew as well as the back of his hand.

“I had found who they were, eventually. Killed them.” He said it almost off-handedly; and indeed, for him, those lives had been nothing. Not even worth the dirt under his boots. “But I could never make them suffer the way they made me. Could never take away something they never had.”

He saw Marcus holding the baby closer, the revelation dawning over his features.

“Yes.” Paduk said simply, although it was not the whole answer.

“See, I was never quite born into war. We fought, yes, but my village was small, far from it. We’d given some of our men to the country, then they’d return, the next ones would go. I didn’t grow up around bomb shells and death like some others.”

In fact, he still remembered the daisies. The vivid yellow flowers, so bright and beautiful against the meadows. No matter what had happened after that, this image of the lands surrounding his village, the flowers finding their way through the cracks between the cobblestones remained forever.

He hoped he would never grow to forget it. Some things were worth remembering, as they could only continue living in one’s memory.

“That changed when the borders did.” The rest of the memories rose up as well, darkness covering the beautiful ground in his mind. “For fuel, for power… There was nothing left, by the end of it. I joined the army shortly after they’d found me amidst the bodies and the wreckage.”

He still remembered the pain of that. Of losing everyone and everything he knew, of having the land of his ancestors ravaged before his very eyes, his pride as a Gorasni suffering by his inability to have prevented that, to have stopped it.

“I never regretted joining. Could do unto them, what they’d do unto me, right?” Marcus kept looking at him, and Paduk found it right that he didn’t avert his eyes. Some things, you couldn’t bend before. “I found someone. It wasn’t all that uncommon. Most folk were a bit older than me, yeah, but we were all in the same situation. We were the only family most still had.”

He still remembered him. That was another memory he never wished to lose, as long as he lived and breathed.

“I can’t say it wasn’t love. But it lasted a season, as one would say. War took us apart, and we never thought to find each other again. Didn’t take from what we had though.” As far as beginning go, Paduk thought he’d been more than lucky. “He was everything I wanted him to be. And he left me something more than memories.”

Hands resting over his abdomen, Paduk let his chin drop, shutting his eyes.

“I knew quite soon, barely a few months in.” The nausea had been a big clue. “It was something I was taught about, back in my village. Might’ve even planned for it, if life had gone differently. Didn’t mean I didn’t want it, however.”

He had wanted it. More than he’d thought possible.

“But once in the army, you didn’t get a way out so soon.” He couldn’t even blame them for it. The only way they’d kept the COG at bay was matching their sheer numbers as much as possible, as strongly as possible. “I would’ve gotten the last two months off, if I’d reached that far. You’d be surprised how many did. Suppose, nature knew her thing.”

Biting his lip, he took in a shaky breath.

“I’d thought up a couple of names. Allowed myself to make some tentative plans.” He’d never wanted to feel that way again, to risk repeating it. “My commanding officer understood, he picked the least dangerous or stressful things I could do. But we were close to the front lines. There was only as much as he could do.”

He hadn’t forgotten that act of kindness, albeit it had proved futile in the end.

“Wasn’t enough though.” He always did hate winter for that reason. Still remembered the biting chill, the mud of early Thaw. “We were out on patrol, when they ambushed us. Took down my comrade and caught me in the shoulder.”

He pointed at his right arm – despite the scorch marks covering it, there was still a visible semi-round indentation left behind from the old scar. 

“I tried to get out, to shoot, to find cover.” Wasn’t the first bullet he’d felt, but that hadn’t helped. “They were too many. They’d kept an eye on us, planned this out.”

It had become evident, in time. And when he’d gotten to pry that information out of his former captors.

“Well let me tell you, they didn’t much care about rules in war or information.” As if many ever did, he thought bitterly. “All they saw, was an indie bastard they could take apart bit by bit, found themselves some entertainment for the night.”

Maybe Marcus would stop him. Say enough was enough.

He paused, but the words never came.

So he kept talking, seemingly the only thing he could do now.

“Initially, they were fine with beating me up. Probably hadn’t expended the shot to miss anything vital enough to get me to bleed out in minutes.” As luck would have it. “But they realized. After all this time, I don’t know how they were so sure. Maybe I wasn’t the first they’d come across.”

A shiver ran down his spine, the memories stirring a deep sense of dread within him. He fought that down. He hadn’t told this to anyone. No one, for thirty fucking years.

And here he was now, spilling his heart out in front of his man, this stranger, this Gear.

Why?

He couldn’t say.

“Maybe I’d subconsciously tried to protect my child, curling up; or maybe it was showing more than I thought. I was getting far in after all.” Glancing back at the moons, he tried to keep himself grounded. “There was no moonlight that night. Pitch black skies. Probably what saved me after all.”

He remembered thinking he didn’t want to die in the dark. For all that was happening, he just didn’t want it to be so damn dark. He wanted to feel the warmth of the sun again, if not summer, then spring.

“Maybe I even begged them not to do it. But it hurt too much to stop them.” He quickly reached for his thigh holster, heartbeat thundering before he felt the worn handle of the knife stashed there. “Your lancers, before the grubs came. Wicked things. With bayonets.”

That was what made Marcus finally look away. Paduk couldn’t blame him. Not now, of all times. When he understood him better than anyone could.

“The weapons of savages.” He somehow found the chainsaw lancers a lot less dejected; perhaps because they only came to be in use after the locust showed up. “They made sure to stab at me while I was still conscious enough to know their purpose. To have me watch them take the life of the child still within me. Tearing it apart like rabid dogs.”

His skin was warm underneath his palms, the scars crossing over it turning invisible, hidden, even if he’d always know they are there.

Looking down in surprise, he saw Marcus’ hand had come to cover his, a tentative touch, mirroring his own earlier attempt at comforting him.

“I know I don’t have the right, but…” Marcus didn’t say more, but didn’t take his hand away either. If Paduk wanted to, he could push his touch away. But he didn’t.

“They threw me away in a ditch, to bleed out to death. To feel every last minute of my life in agony.” Paduk found himself struggling to find the words, his grasp of the language wavering for the first time since he’d began his story. Gritting his teeth, he breathed in, and out, then did it again. “But they hadn’t taken away my knife. I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself, or even kill a single one of them. But my body struggled to survive.”

Reaching for something had never felt so difficult as it had in that very moment, Paduk was certain.

“I should’ve passed out. I didn’t.” Adrenaline, the doctor had told him. Despite the blood loss, the broken bones, the trauma. “My guts dragged across the ground. Thorns cut me up. I pushed the knife in the ground, pulled myself forward inch by fucking inch, and did it all again.”

All that time, he’d expected a shot in the back. The piercing, hyena-like laugh of his captors over his futile struggles. But it had never come.

“They could’ve come back to finish the job, deciding not to risk it. So I had to get away, as far as possible.” The minutes had dragged on like hours, in the dark. He had kept thinking of the sun. The bloody sun, the warmth of its light falling across his face. “Don’t know how far exactly was it in the end. Another patrol had found me, taken me to the outpost. I survived.”

Marcus’ fingers gripped his hand a bit tighter. He shouldn’t have found comfort in that. He did.

“Doc said, he couldn’t get all the bone splinters away.” He could even feel one, by his left hip, if he pressed hard enough. “So I do carry pieces of that child within me, forever. It’s all that the COG left me. Fragments. Bone and blood and scars and pain.”

“And yet you’ve still helped me.” Marcus said again, this time with even more gratitude. “You’re still here.”

“I’m not like them. Never will be.” Leaning over, Paduk grasps his wrist before Marcus has the chance to pull his hand away. “I want you to remember this conversation. And I want you to do anything you can, for this child. Because you got to have him. No one has the right take that away from you, no one.”

“I won’t let them.” Marcus didn’t look away, didn’t struggle to free his hand despite Paduk’s grip on him.

“I brought your son into this world, when you both were a step away from leaving it.” Getting up, Paduk finally moved away. “No matter what people think, what they say, you have the right to be here. He has. Baird would make a decent father too, I think.”

“I was always wondering about myself.” A sad smile turned the corner of Marcus’ lips. “I guess, here’s to finding out.”

“As long as you love him, just try to do right by him.” Paduk felt more exhausted than he had in any of the other nights he’d stayed up looking over Marcus and the baby. But sleep was far from his mind for sure.

A loud cry got their attention, and Marcus shushed quietly, trying to understand what had prompted it.

“Let me…” Paduk uncovered the cloth which served for the baby’s nappy, but it was still the same as when he’d changed it last time. Swaddling the boy again, he left Marcus to embrace him once more. “I think he’s just hungry again.”

“Uh… How do we go about that?” A note of embarrassed uncertainty passed through Marcus’ voice, and Paduk felt the tension in his own shoulders draw further and further away.

“Well, for now, it’s the bottle. Because you’re still recovering, and on antibiotics.” He went to the bedside cabinet, and the supplies stacked neatly over it. A small kettle, the tin with the powdered milk, filtered water, the bottle. “Is your chest tender?”

“Some, I think?” Marcus seemed shy about the fact, and Paduk realized he’d never said it if the matter hadn’t come up.

“Then I think you know how the rest will go. Once we get you off the painkillers and the other meds.” Mixing up the milk, he tested the temperature on the inside of his wrist. “Don’t worry about it for now. Here, try it.”

Giving him the bottle, he sat down again, watching the tentative process begin. It always took a bit to start, though he was just glad the boy was eating. His improvement in the past few days had been great, especially since Paduk’s prognosis in the beginning hadn’t been that optimistic.

“I think I got it.” Marcus smiled, glancing at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Despite everything, he felt himself smiling in turn. Life always did have its ways, didn’t it. He’d never stop wondering about that.

He watched the two of them in peace, until he began to notice Marcus struggling to keep his eyes open; his eyelids would grow heavier, close for a second but he’d bring himself out of it. He could give him another moment, but knew the man would fall asleep for good soon.

“Would you like to?...” Marcus asked, motioning lightly with the bottle. “I think it’s not good for him if I keep falling asleep through it. Don’t want to mess something up.”

“Okay. I think I had a role in exhausting you anyways.” Paduk carefully took the baby, and the bottle. “But next time you’re staying up for the whole process.”

“Won’t miss it for the world.” Marcus smirked, his eyes closing again. “Please keep him safe.”

He said as if in an afterthought, but looked at Paduk one more time.

“I will.” He said in turn, realizing that after all, Marcus was afraid like anyone in his position would be, even if he wouldn’t have voiced it so had he not been half-asleep. “I promise.”

Maybe he was already asleep. But Paduk had to say it.

Looking down at the boy in his arms, he offered him the bottle again.

“Well?” He cooed, smiling softly when their eyes met. “You really are a sunshine, aren’t you?”

* * *

***

* * *

The trees swayed with the gentle breeze, their patchwork canopy providing a pleasant, shady alcove one could rest in. He had been walking down the beach, enjoying the warmth of the late morning, JD sleeping in his arms.

It felt good to be able to move again, even if it was something he still had to pepper through with short breaks along the way – his muscles were recovering from a whole month spent in bed.

Thankfully, most of that wasn’t on the ship, since Marcus could barely stand the heat in the cabin during the day. Once he’d been stable enough, Paduk had given the all clear to move him back on land with one of the boats.

Most of Azura was pretty much intact, apart from the hotel, and people had taken temporary residence in some of the various buildings scattered around.

Work was far from over though, from what he could see. The Gorasni Destroyer still drifted in the deep waters around the island, a dark outline on the horizon. Stuck without fuel, but not without possibility.

But, by the doctor’s orders, he wasn’t burdening himself with any of that. Baird barely talked to him about what was in the works, trying to keep him from worrying. He didn’t mind, not when they could talk about a whole lot of other things in that time.

He’d been sleeping, spending time with his son, and most of all tentatively hoping the end of the Locust really had come for good.

Nobody would be able to take it, if this was yet another failure to destroy them.

Reaching one of the stone benches placed on the far end of the sand line, he sat down, smirking at Baird who was already waiting for him there with a couple of martini glasses.

Where he found those, Marcus didn’t want to ask.

“Pineapple juice for you, and maybe something a bit more alcoholic for me.” Damon quipped, handing Marcus one of the glasses, like they were simply guests at some evening party.

“Drinking before noon? Any reason to celebrate?” He huffed, taking the glass.

Baird leaned over, stealing a quick kiss, which made Marcus smile.

“Maybe.” Wrapping an arm around Marcus’ waist, Baird drank the contents of his glass in one go, before continuing. “Got a blueprint for a new kind of portable solar generator to work. That’s gonna help us big time.”

“Good work.” He took a sip of the juice, enjoying the refreshing taste. The warmth of Damon’s body pressed against his side, the pristine ocean spawned before them as far as the eye could see. “Does it mean you get the day off?”

“To spend with my family? Of course.” Baird said in a bit of an exaggerated manner. No one had working hours per se, but it seemed like his skills had been in a particularly high demand.

Marcus couldn’t blame people for needing clean water and electricity, or the Gorasni for calling him to help with the ship’s inner workings, but he did miss him in the last few days. Especially since Baird had been spending nearly every moment by his bedside since he awoke after the surgery, making him company, helping with JD since Marcus hadn’t even been able to stand up on his own for a long while.

It had been interesting, to wrap their heads around the fact that they were now responsible for a whole another human being. To let it sink in they had a child, that JD really was there to stay.

Even seeing him snug and comfortable in his arms, Marcus sometimes caught himself stopping because he was overwhelmed by a feeling of amazement, the realization this wasn’t all a dream. This was their life now, and it wouldn’t disappear the next time he opened his eyes in the morning.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Baird had put away his glass, and looked at him with curiosity.

“Nothing. Everything.” Marcus huffed at himself. Where would he even begin?

Looking down, he watched JD’s sleeping face for a long moment. James-Dominic, that’s the name he’d picked after all. Paduk had been right about that too; it had come to him in due time.

A click of a shutter surprised him, and he looked back up at Baird, who was now waving a little slip of paper in the air.

“It was just too perfect of a moment not to.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Where did you even get that?” Marcus asked. Cameras, and the supplies for them had been truly scarce in the last couple of years.

“Cole found it in one of the houses. Said it was a gift for us.” Baird showed him the photo, a wide smile on his face. “Made me promise I’ll be presenting him a whole album soon. Look, that’s a perfect beginning, isn’t it?”

“It is good.” He had to agree, looking at the warm tones of the picture. James looked positively angelic, as close as ink and paper could get to the way he was in real life. “So how about another walk? I think I’m up for it.”

“Just don’t push yourself too hard.” Baird helped him back on his feet, before slinging an arm over his elbow as they walked side by side. “There’s no rush, you know?”

“I know.” Marcus didn’t add that staying put had been difficult – even though he trusted everyone who made sure he and little JD would be safe, some things had been an instinct at this point. He had to have full control of his body, had to be able to move if anything happened.

There was no fully escaping the war, not even in the brightness and greenery and crystalline blue waters of Azura.

Not when the place carried so many memories of fresh wounds too.

It was a temporary stop along the way, an outpost, a place to regroup and plan ahead. He needed to keep busy somehow, even if it meant walking the island from end to end daily, his baby boy with him.

“Paduk said you have to take it easy. Muscles take a lot of time to mend.” Worry streaked through Baird’s otherwise gentle tone. “You can’t risk rupturing something again.”

“I’ll be careful.” He promised after a few more steps. “Any word from Jace and Sam?”

“Yep, they’ve reconnected with the others. Apparently Anvil Gate is about done for when it comes to its glorious fort days.” Baird chuckled. “Sam was pretty happy to put that place away for good. Hoffman might not take it quite so easy though.”

“Bernie will change his mind.” Marcus remembered a moment that now seemed so long ago, back on Vectes, the previous time they’d thought maybe the Locust were gone. “She might pick up a herd again.”

“Granny? Don’t see it.” Baird stopped for a moment, leaning down to pick something up from the sand. A small pink seashell, glimmering nearly opalescent. He observed it for a bit, before tucking it away in one of the pockets of his overalls. “We might need to though. Winter will come eventually, and with the Sovereign down, we’ll be needing food coming from somewhere.”

“What are the talks about that?” Marcus waited until Baird took his position by him again, before they continued.

“Well, back on the mainland seems to be the general consensus.” Baird frowned, glancing away for a moment. “Force of habit, maybe. And there’s the matter of the bodies.”

“The crystallization still going?” Marcus recalled what Cole and Dizzy had mentioned to him one evening, about the Locust corpses going rigid and practically cocooned by a hard yellow material.

“Yep, and they flow because of it. Can’t just dump them in the ocean and forget about it either.” Baird rubbed a hand over his jaw briefly. “The Gorasni tried already. For now we might just leave things as they are, see if something changes after winter.”

“Time will tell, huh.” Marcus didn’t like it. “Doesn’t sound good to me, but I get there’s not that many options either.”

“One thing at a time, right?” Baird reminded him. “Let’s focus on not starving first maybe. Or getting ambushed by the Stranded. Those are still lurking out there.”

“A united front. Trescu said it, didn’t he.” Marcus knew a bit about the negotiations that had been going with the remaining survivors of the Republics, mostly stuff Anya had told him when she’d come to check up on him.

“Yeah, and it’s our best bet. So I’ve been a busy bee running errands for them too.” They’d reached a bench again, the same one under the palm trees Marcus had passed by earlier. “Another break?”

“Alright.” He agreed, sitting down carefully. On occasion, his midriff still ached, and anything requiring core strength was damn near out of the window. But it was just pain. Eventually, it was going to pass.

He supposed, it was a worthy exchange. Nothing good ever came easily, and as quiet as JD had been in his tummy, Marcus knew some things were inherently challenging for a reason.

Nature had given him this chance, the rest had been up to him to endure, to survive.

He had worried, about gossip, about negative reactions. But Delta was there for them, and nobody had dared even look at him and JD wrong. Maybe times were changing indeed.

“Can I hold him for a bit? Your arms must be getting tired.” Baird scooted up closer on the bench, reaching for JD, who stirred lightly at the exchange.

Marcus carefully took him out of the sling cloth he’d wrapped over his shoulder, noting the happy expression crossing Damon’s face the moment he held him close.

JD looked up at him with that specific, oddly smart expression for such a small baby; seemingly content to be right where he was.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes.” Baird hummed, glancing over at him.

“You too, huh.” Marcus closed his eyes for a bit, breathing in the salty, fresh air. It was real, and he was here.

Look Dom, he wanted to say. We made it.

There were so many who didn’t.

Who would have guessed, that he’d reach this point in life?

The future might not be clear, but one thing was certain: he would do his best to make it count.

He had reasons to keep going, to try and make this world a home again, despite all the destruction and pain. They would.

Leaning his head on Baird’s shoulder, he watched the waves endlessly caressing the shore.

_I am here, Carlos. And I am free._

_We are._

***

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*********** Bonus artworks***************

Marcus and baby JD  
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Young Paduk

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**Author's Note:**

> Well, here's a work that has been on my mind in well over an year now. A magnum opus if you will, even if it took me so long to actually sit and write it down.


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